Someone Like You
by Spectering
Summary: Donna quits working for Harvey. He shows up at her apartment to celebrate, to say goodbye. Something happens that changes their lives forever. Post Season 6 Finale.
1. HelloGoodbye

Bottle of Chloe Rosé in one hand and some flowers in the other, he makes his way up the steps two at a time. He reaches door 206 in no time, more pep in his step than he really feels. He's been trying to be supportive even if he doesn't want her to leave him.

He uses the top of the bottle to lightly tap against the door. He counts the seconds it takes her to answer the door, 32, as he tries to steady his breathing. He smiles widely and lifts the items in his hands like he's offering her something to make her happy.

"Harvey," she says slowly, shock and confusion taking over her face, "Hi."

"Brought Rosé to celebrate," he says lifting the bottle, "Brought flowers as consolation."

"That's thoughtful," she murmurs. She takes the proffered flowers from him, immediately inhaling them. He wonders if it's an impulse for a woman to smell the flowers as soon as they receive them. She says, "What are you doing here?"

"We didn't get to say goodbye," he answers softly. He offers her a smile and leans against the doorframe. His eyes trail over the length of her. She's very dressed down but still as beautiful as she always is. Her feet are bare, popping with a purple sparkle on her toes, and she looks extremely homely. This is how he always secretly imagined her to be at home. "Thought we could toast to thirteen years with a bottle."

"I do love Rosé," she muses. She slowly turns in the doorway and makes a small gesture for him to come in. He expels a breath, trying to collect his nerves. Tonight is the night he's going to tell her. She says, "Come in."

He steps over the threshold but waits for her on the other side. He rolls the bottle into his other hand before he realizes that he's too nervous to really be so careless. If he drops it, he has nothing to butter her up with. And he'll piss her off by ruining her floor.

He follows her to the kitchen where she puts the flowers down on the counter. She grabs two wine glasses from the cabinet and leaves them there. She grabs the bottle opener and hands it to him. She grabs vase to put the flowers in. She moves out of the room. He has the bottle quickly opened like a seasoned veteran and has two glasses poured, scooping them both up to carry in her direction.

He notices that she's set the flowers in the center of her dining room table, and he quickly hands over one of the glasses when they lock eyes. She smiles her thanks, taking a long sip. He can feel the heat radiate off of her skin he's standing so close to her. He also takes a drink, their eyes connected nearly the entire time.

"It's good," she says, smacking her lips.

He nods in agreement. He says, "Summer wines aren't my forte, really had to get some suggestions from Rachel."

She gives him a cheeky look at the mention of Rachel's name.

"So," she starts, slightly awkward as she lightly touches his elbow and begins heading for the couch. He follows her lead, really pushing his luck and sitting in the center of the couch. She pulls a knee up and it brushes his thigh. He feels a blush creep up his cheeks. "What are we celebrating?"

He stills for a moment, eyebrows furrowing in deep confusion. She gestures to the glass of wine and remembers that he'd called the bottle a form of celebration. He utters an 'oh' that's almost inaudible that makes her tilt her head.

"We're celebrating you moving on to bigger and better things," he says. She opens her mouth like she's going to protest or accuse him of trying to make her feel badly, but that isn't what he's trying to do at all. He shakes his head in equal protest. "You really deserve this."

"Harvey," she says, voice hanging for almost a full minute, "We had two weeks to talk about this. Why now?"

"What?" He mutters innocently, "I just want us to celebrate together. We can share this bottle then I'll get out of your hair."

"That's not," she says defensively, but she stops herself. He watches her intently, like he wants her to complete her thought. He doesn't want her to feel like she can't talk to him. He wants her to stay in his life. She lifts a hand and pinches the bridge of her nose. She says, "I'm not saying that. I just feel like you're being a little passive aggressive right now."

"I'm not," he replies, "I'm excited for you. I always wanted you to pursue your dreams. I just...I wish you had said something sooner."

"Me too," she murmurs. She masks her sadness with a big gulp from her glass. It's nearly empty now. She pushes herself to her feet. "Getting a refill."

He nods and watches as she gets up. She disappears behind the couch and he fights the urge to turn around and watch her. He doesn't even know what he's doing here anymore. He thought them seeing the day through would be something nice, considering all they've been through together.

He swallows and says loudly, "I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done."

She returns rather quickly with the bottle in one hand and her glass in the other. She sets the bottle on the coffee table and drops back onto the cushion beside him, her knee now overlapping his thigh. She looks at him. He shifts his gaze away to look at the bottle.

"You already thanked me," she replies.

"Yeah," he says, voice lulling for a moment, "But we've been through so much together."

He rests his head back on the couch cushion, finally meeting her gaze again. He's been giving it a lot of thought lately. Or he had been, before she spilled the news that she was leaving. Before that he had been waiting for the right time, for the Mike stuff to calm down. He wanted to tell her that he'd realized he was in love with her, that not a day went by where he didn't think of her and their possibilities together.

Now he knows that he has to let her go, fly away.

He isn't ready to let her go just get.

He squirms beneath her gaze, the look on her face a warning like he said the wrong thing. He looks away from her, quickly leaning forward to refill his only half empty glass. He is uncomfortable being here alone with her. He wants her to know what she wants, wanted her to tell him, wants to kiss her. He's loved her for too long to just let her walk away.

"We're still going to be friends," she says, like it's the most obvious thing.

"Yeah," he absently agrees. He doesn't really want to be just her friend anymore. He's been that for too long. But, have they ever really been friends? He looks for a way out. His eyes flit to the clock and he sighs. He says, "Well, it's getting late."

"Oh," she says softly.

She sounds far away. He leans forward and places his glass on the table beside the bottle. He stands up and heads to the front door. He turns around, surprised to see her behind him. She stops him with a hand on his arm.

"Donna?"

She doesn't quite say anything. She steps so close that he can feel her knee on his leg. She seems to be growing taller. He feels her lips touch his, her hand circle around to the back of his head. The kiss is soft, wanly and uncertain. He wonders if she even knows what she's doing.

Her other hand lightly touches his chest and his back flattens against the door. Instinctively, his hands come up to her hips. His mouth opens beneath hers, and all of the thoughts evade his head. He can think of only her hands pressed against him.


	2. Six Weeks Later

_So, this was always the plan for this fic. We all know I'm not the best at baby fic, but it does allow a bit softer conversations that neither of them have had. Which means, conversations about what they saw and do see for their future. I feel like I need to explain why they (Donna) is going about this the way that they (Donna) are, but hopefully I can do that more clearly without just saying it and have one of them (Donna) say it._

* * *

 **Six Weeks Later**

This is not happening.

She is exactly 3 days, 74 hours, late and that just isn't possible. It's not possible. In 27 years she has never missed a period. Not now, just on the cusp of her 40th birthday, months after her midlife crisis has began.

She's been trying to figure out what exactly she wants to do with her life and, honestly, she's barely hanging by a thread. Everything seems so out of reach for her. She feels like she will always be just a secretary even though she hasn't worked for Harvey in 6 weeks. She hasn't done much of anything in 6 weeks.

Her discovery included trying to decide what she wanted for her future. Did she want a life where she was a career executive administrative assistant where she was potentially in love with a man who would never look at her that way and she continued to put his goals and dreams before her own? Or did she want to pursue her own dreams even later in life? Meet a man who might love her, have a child or two depending on how quickly things happen for her? She had a lot of questions to answer. And they all started with space from Harvey.

In his defense, over the last 6 weeks, he has made great efforts to talk to her, to see her. He's called her, but she's denied the calls. He's texted but she hasn't known how to respond. He's stopped by and she's pretended that she isn't home.

She realized soon after he left that she needed space from him to discover what she wants. Whenever she's around him, she can't help herself in putting his wants and desires first. She knew what she needed to do.

The universe, however, seems to have different plans for her. She bought the little stick from the drug store and peed on it. She's been waiting for nearly an hour to look at it, extremely scared to actually find out the answer.

She's been staring at her potential future, trying to figure out if she can even really manage to find out the truth. If she is pregnant, she will have to undo all of that distancing she worked towards. If she is pregnant everything she might have wanted will have to change.

The truth of the matter is that she is nearly 40, and if she is pregnant now this might be her only chance at having a child. A younger version of herself may have stupidly believed that Harvey would be the father to her children, but as she grew older her realization also grew that it was long shot. Her need to get away from him would be inevitably squashed.

She sighs heavily, attempting to release some of her anxiety, and leans forward on the couch. It's time to look. It's time to find out for sure.

* * *

He hears a knock on his door. It echoes through his apartment, small and dainty. He looks at the time on his cable box and realizes that it's nearly midnight. He mutes the sports highlights and gets up from the couch. He pads his way down the hallway to the front door, his shoes discarded long ago, pair of sweatpants and black undershirt replacing his suit.

He pulls open his front door without even bothering to look through the peep hole, and the person behind door number 1 leaves him stunned. She stands there, mouth tilted apologetic like, hair slightly wavy, and her top exposing her shoulders. He hasn't seen her since that night that he'd stopped by, her last day at the office. He's tried, he really has. He's called her, texted her, stopped by, but she didn't want to talk to him. He gave her space, crossed that line by asking Rachel about her to which Rachel always told him she was doing great.

It occurs to him that a significant amount of time has passed with him just staring at her, drinking her in, mouth slightly open. He quickly shuts his mouth and swallows. Clearing his throat he says, "Donna, hi. Come in."

"Thank you," she replies graciously.

Her voice sounds small, like maybe she's been crying. He wishes he were the person she talked to when things got tough, wishes she hadn't ghosted him so he could be the one to comfort her. She steps into his apartment and walks into the living room like she owns the place. He watches her form put space between them before he finally shuts the door and follows her path.

He swallows again, gesturing around the apartment to have the seat of her choice. She has a seat on the couch, in the corner nearest the kitchen. He stares st her for a minute, eyes trained on her as he moves around to the other side of the couch, sitting more towards the middle than the arm.

"What's going on, Donna?" He starts. He feels the couch shift beside him and her knee taps against his thigh. He fully turns his attention towards her, leaning forward and pressing his elbows on his thighs. "How are you?"

"I took a pregnancy test today," she admits. It hits him like a truck. He's speechless for the first time in a long time. He doesn't know how to respond. Is she telling him because she thinks it might be his from that one night? He opens his mouth but closes it just as quickly. She says, "It came back positive. I have a confirmation appointment tomorrow. I just thought you should know."

"You think it's mine," he says slowly.

"You're the only one it could be," she says.

He releases a breath, a heavy weight forming in his chest. He stands up quickly, suddenly feeling like the room is extremely hot. He nods slowly, at nothing in particular, and goes into the kitchen for a glass of water. He glances at her over his shoulder as he fishes a glass out of the cabinet.

"Do you want a drink?" He asks.

He grabs two glasses without bothering to hear her answer. He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and cracks it open, pouring some water into both glasses. He shakily lifts a glass in each hand and takes them into the living room. He sets one down on the coffee table in front of her and drink she entirety of his glass in one go.

He turns and heads back into the kitchen, refilling his glass. She's barely taken a sip from hers when he looks at her. He leaves his glass on the counter, going back into the living room. He doesn't sit back down on the couch. Instead he stands with a few feet between them.

"Is this what you meant when you said you wanted more?" He asks.

"I don't know," she replies. She looks away from him. He notices that her knuckles are turning white as she grasps the armrest.

He swallows. He tries to think of a way to word this without it completely pissing her off. He says, "Have you not thought about it at all over the last six weeks?"

She looks at him sharply, gaze narrowing like she's firing him some warning shots. He may not see her every day anymore, but he still knows her. She releases her grasp on the armrest. She says, "I haven't figured any of that out."

"So what do you want to do?" He says with a sigh.

"Look," she says, standing up, "I just thought you should know. There is a ninety-nine percent chance that you knocked me up. So I'm not the only one with a decision to make."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you have to decide if there's room in your life for a baby or not," she replies. She starts heading towards his front door. Her heels echo across the floor with every step she takes. His bare feet follow her, not even really sure if he has anything else to say. "I'll call you."

He sighs and reaches out to stop her, but his movement falls short. She's already put enough distance between them that he can't touch her. He watches her walk out of his door again.

All he can think is now they're going to always be in each other's lives.

* * *

She can feel her doctor's eyes on her. She feels like he is judging her even though he's been her regular practitioner for a long time. He is a client at the firm and boy if he knew who knocked her up then this would be a whole different story. He smiles, sadly, as he stares at her ring finger for a long time.

"And the father," he starts, "Will he be involved?"

"We haven't discussed it yet," she admits, "I was giving him some time to think about it."

"How do you think Harvey will do with all of this?" He asks.

He knows that she's worked for Harvey for a long time. He doesn't know about her working for Louis. He also doesn't know that she hasn't worked for Harvey for 6 weeks now. She wonders if he would put two and two together when she told him that.

"I, um," she smiles sadly, looking down at her hands herself. She has given it a little more thought since telling him yesterday she's pregnant. She is bothered that he hasn't ever manned up to tell her how he feels about her. But she's also annoyed at herself for never really giving him the chance to try. She looks up at Doctor Irvine again, tears beginning to well in her eyes. She says, "I don't work for Harvey anymore."

"Well, you will be sorely missed," he says with a reassuring smile. The air in the room thickens. She almost feels like she needs a new family doctor, one who doesn't know so much about her. Her regular practitioner is also Harvey's regular doctor. "Let's talk obstetrician recommendations."

Twenty minutes later, she leaves with recommendations for the top practicing obstetricians in the city. She already has a preference from the list, but she thinks she will give Harvey the courtesy of being involved if he so chooses. She makes a call up to his office and asks if he has any time for a meeting. His temp has no idea who she is, but she reassures he will know what the meeting entails. Reluctantly, the temp pencils her in for 3:45pm.

* * *

He spots a mysterious addition to his schedule for the day, a bright red '3:45pm' with exclamation points showing up out of nowhere. He has no idea what it's in reference to, and he really has no idea how to prepare for it. At 3:45 sharp, his former secretary walks in determined, shutting the door behind her. None of his normal stalling tactics would work on her.

He's almost too star struck for a moment to even say anything, surprised that she would stop by rather than calling like she'd said she would. To be fair, he does think conversations are always better face to face; but he hasn't even really had time to think about the situation that they're in. He wanted to schedule an appointment with Dr. Agard to talk it all out. He would much rather talk it all out with Donna, even though he doesn't necessarily think he can be so honest.

"Donna," he says. He's in slight shock. He runs a hand down his chest in an attempt to smooth out any standing wrinkles in his tie. He watches as she sits down in the chair across from him, like she really wants to conduct this like a meeting. He snaps his mouth shut and absently wets his lips. He says, "I thought you said you were going to call."

"I know how you feel about important conversations over the phone," she replies.

"I would have come to you," he says. He slowly sits down in his desk chair, not real pleased with the business transaction of this situation at all. He sighs loudly as he leans back in his chair. "This isn't a conversation we should have at the office."

"You care about work more than anything," she points out.

"Well, not anything," he corrects. He stares at her poignantly, waiting for her to piece it together. Her gaze, however, tightens in response like she's extremely annoyed by her answer. He wonders if there will ever be a right time to tell her how he feels about her. Especially now that there's a baby. "So, what did you find out?"

"Yes," she says slowly, maybe like he's too stupid to fully understand her without her speaking slow, "I am pregnant."

"Okay," he hears himself say.

He sounds like he's in a tunnel, his voice echoing back at him. He's having an out of body experience, like he finally understands what it all means. He had a slight panic attack at the prospect the night before, but now it's real. Of course he wants to be in this baby's life. Of course he wants to be a parent, but he isn't entirely sure how much longer he can do on being in love with her and not letting her know.

"Look, you don't have to be in this kid's life," she starts.

She pauses long enough for him to comprehend what she's said. He feels his face get hot. He feels his heart jump into his throat.

"Why would you say that?" He interjects. "Of course I do. Whatever you or the baby needs, I'm on it."

"Lets not complicate it," she retaliates, "This baby is a huge commitment."

"Which I am committed to one hundred percent," he replies. He's barely thought about what this means, but having a child with her really doesn't require any thought. The only thing he hates about this is that they aren't doing this right. He's thought about having children, and on occasion it's been her he's doing it with. Especially recently. "And let's face it, Donna, it's always been at least a little complicated."

"Well, I don't want it to be anymore," she replies. He stares at her for a moment, trying to figure out what she's saying she wants from him. He could tell her right now that it isn't complicated, that he sees her in his future, that he's in love with her. He could tell her, but the timing would make it seem like he's only saying this given her being pregnant. "Whatever, Harvey. My first ob appointment is next Thursday at noon."

"Okay," he replies, voice restrained.

He wants to say something else, something reassuring, but he doesn't know where to start. He watches as she stands. He feels there isn't anything he can do anymore. He pinches the bridge of his nose. He hears his door swing open, the sound of her heels pressing into the floor quickly fading.


End file.
